


You, Who I Love

by diamondlatte



Series: Again and Again [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Day At The Beach, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Intensely Requited Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Moving In Together, Mutual Pining, Sakura (Cherry Blossoms), Wu Yi Fan | Kris is Whipped, feel good fluff hngngngg SOft, god this is the fluff that i denied yall in the last fic, junmyeon is lovely and beautiful, oblivious kris, slow burn but like within 5k
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-19 13:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19974811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamondlatte/pseuds/diamondlatte
Summary: Yifan makes a best friend in the bright summer when he’s twelve, all blue waves and hot breeze and ice-cold lemonade that condenses in their hands before they can even take a sip. Yifan realises he’s got a crush on his best friend when he’s fifteen and it’s spring and they’re sitting under the cherry blossom trees and petals catch in their hair, lo-fi music playing softly. Yifan thinks he falls in love the winter he turns nineteen, when his best friend shows up on his doorstep, red cheeks and fluffy scarf and smile that’s warmer than any burning fireplace. Yifan tells his best friend he loves him the autumn that he turns twenty-one, and he kisses him, all burnt orange and browning leaves surrounding them.Yifan falls in love with Junmyeon, his best friend, his lover, his world, his everything, and the world finally turns in their favour for once.





	You, Who I Love

**Author's Note:**

> i broke ur hearts and now im here to unbreak your hearts. i hope you enjoy this, because i enjoyed writing it!

_I would live a thousand lives alone,_

_To live one lifetime with you_.

* * *

Life is not that cruel to make them destined yet never let them find a happy ending. Life is difficult, but it is not cruel, and so it is finally time that happiness finds a permanent home with Yifan and Junmyeon. This time, the happiness is slow to unravel, like the perfect ribbon that sits upon a present that one is too unwilling to ruin and so must slowly pull it apart. 

Yifan is twelve when he first meets Junmyeon. 

He had been taken to the beach for a day trip by his mother, and he had stared at the golden sand and turquoise waters before launching into a sprint with much enthusiasm that his mother had laughed, surprised, and let her son tackle the waters. 

“Don’t go too far!” She had shouted after him, and he yelled affirmation back before skidding to a halt just where the waves came up to lap at the beach. He stared for a while, transfixed by the lull of the bright waters’ swish up the golden sand, wetting everything in its path, the waves even coming to tickle his ankles and curl around his legs. 

“Are you not going in?” An unfamiliar voice sounds from beside Yifan, and he turns. It’s a boy. He looks around Yifan’s age, a little shorter than him, all pouty cheeks and big eyes and when Yifan doesn’t respond he repeats his question, this time a little louder and more insistent.

“Oh - I was going to!” Yifan says, defending himself against the sudden question from someone he doesn’t even know. 

“I was going to too!” The boy says happily, “Let’s go in together!” He smiles then, so big and wide that Yifan finds himself stepping into the waters paceside with the boy, the cold water coming up to almost their knees before they stop.   


“It’s so cold,” Yifan gasps, giggling when a particularly large wave sweeps in and brings the water up to their thighs. 

“Isn’t it pretty?” The boy asks, still beside Yifan, and now he’s holding out a hand, like he wants Yifan to take it. “My name is Junmyeon!” 

“My name is Yifan,” Yifan says, and they latch their pinkies together, edging towards deeper water slowly, not afraid because there’s two of them. 

“That’s enough, Yifan, make sure you don’t go too far,” His mother says from behind them, gentle and not chiding, making sure the two boys don’t go into water past their waist. “Who’s this with you?” 

“I’m Junmyeon!” Junmyeon pipes in before Yifan can say anything, “I’m his new friend!” 

And in no way did they agree or discuss about this in the few short moments that they were alone, but Yifan just nods, wide-eyed, and his mother laughs, guiding the two boys back into shallow water, this time with Junmyeon’s older brother coming into the water, evidently looking for Junmyeon. 

“Hyung!” Junmyeon says cheerfully, “This is Yifan. We’re friends!” He swings their joined hands like he’s making a point, and Junmyeon’s older brother just laughs, almost the same way that Junmyeon laughs, and talks a little with Yifan’s mother before he wades into deeper water, swimming away. 

“I want to swim like that…” Yifan says, pouting a little. 

“You can do that when you’re older, like hyung,” Junmyeon explains, suddenly serious, “and you have to learn it in a pool first! It’s dangerous to learn swimming here.” He’s looking at Yifan a little anxiously, like he’s worried Yifan will actually try and learn to swim in the sea, right here right now, and Yifan swings their hands in reassurance. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t. I’ll go back home and learn swimming!” 

At the mention of going back, Junmyeon pouts a little. “I don’t wanna go back…” 

Yifan looks up, concerned and his brows pinching together slightly. “Why not? You need to go back to your house, right? And then you need to go back to school!” 

“I’m transferring to a new school after summer ends,” Junmyeon says, looking at the water like he’s finding the answers to all his worries. “I’m worried, what if I don’t make any friends? I just moved here too, I don’t know anyone…” 

“You know me!” Yifan says loudly, and Junmyeon looks up at that. “You said we’re friends, right? You can hangout with me and stuff, I’ll be your friend here.” 

“Really?” Junmyeon asks, a little shy all of a sudden, but there’s a cute smile blooming on his mouth and his cheeks are squished up because of it. “Promise, Yifan?” 

“I promise, Junmyeon,” Yifan says solemnly, their pinkies still linked together this whole time. 

Yifan learns before the day ends that Junmyeon had just moved to this part of Seoul, and had transferred schools to boot when he’s halfway through the academic year, so not knowing anyone was probably a huge worry to him. He also learns that Junmyeon is a year younger than him and coincidentally, also going to the same school as him, and Yifan tells Junmyeon to find him if he needs anything. 

When Yifan leaves the beach by the time evening settles in, his mother has Junmyeon’s mother’s number, and they’ve exchanged addresses, both parents promising to let them meet up again before summer ended. When Yifan leaves the beach, he leaves with a terrible suntan because he had forgotten to put sunscreen on, but he also leaves with a new friend called Kim Junmyeon who’s loud and shy all at the same time, whose cheeks bunch up when he smiles, and is just that little bit shorter than him. 

He leaves with a new best friend, and it doesn’t matter that he’s only known Junmyeon for a day, doesn’t matter that he might not see Junmyeon much, doesn’t matter that he doesn’t really know Junmyeon. What matters to him is that Junmyeon is new, and he needs a friend, and he’d like to be Junmyeon’s best friend very, very much. 

The two of them meet up three times throughout the summer, once at the park and once each at each others’ houses, playing video games and having dinner, and it’s nice. Really, really, nice, because when summer ends and they start their second semester again, Yifan gets to show Junmyeon around school and is even more pleased to see that Junmyeon makes friends, _fast_ , and Junmyeon need not have worried so much after all. 

“You’re still my best friend,” Junmyeon said solemnly, a month later, when he was settled in and had made more than a handful of new friends. They’re sitting in his bedroom, about to have a sleepover, and Yifan had teased Junmyeon about his newfound popularity. “And I’m not popular! I just have a lot of friends.” 

“We’ll always be best friends, right?” Yifan asks into the silence of the bedroom, but Junmyeon’s smile is loud. 

“Of course we will!” 

Yifan thinks Junmyeon’s smile reminds him of that day at the beach, all hot sun and clear waters, golden sands and cool wind, holding hands as the waves crash into their legs. Junmyeon’s smile curves like the high arch of the sun in the brilliant blue sky, and Yifan thinks Junmyeon is _summer_. 

* * *

Yifan starts his last year of middle school in the March of the year that he turns fifteen, and Junmyeon’s not too happy about being left behind for a year. 

“I left you behind for a year when I graduated from primary into middle school,” Yifan points out mildly, their shoes pressing over the cherry blossom petals that have fallen onto the street, pavement, their hair, everywhere. “What’s the difference?”

Junmyeon scowls and sidesteps a particularly large pile of petals as they walk home. “Yeah, but primary and middle schools were right next to each other. You’re going to high school on the other side from where our middle school is right now, aren’t you? We’re not going to see each other all that often now…” 

“We can still see each other on weekends, it’s not like I’m suddenly flying overseas or something,” Yifan says, not laughing because he doesn’t want to make light of Junmyeon’s worries. “And you have a phone. Text me when you’re lonely and you can talk to me.” 

“It won’t be the _same_ ,” Junmyeon huffs, like he’s eleven and a petulant child again, and this time Yifan can’t help but laugh, reaching over to pat Junmyeon’s head. “Actually,” Junmyeon says, glaring at Junmyeon, “you can leave. No one will pat my head like that after you leave and that’s for the better.” 

“Tough luck,” Yifan drawls, and he’s more than half a head taller than Junmyeon now, despite having only a year’s gap between them. “Chanyeol’s already growing taller than you, Junmyeon. He’ll be taller than you by the end of this year.” 

“Oh, shut _up_ ,” Junmyeon says, but there’s no bite to his voice. 

“Anyway, don’t worry about that,” Yifan says firmly. “We have a whole year to wait before I leave… maybe I won’t even leave if I fail my tests.” 

“Don’t you _dare_ , Wu Yifan,” Junmyeon threatens, as terrifying as a little bunny, and then they race each other home, laughing as cherry blossom petals get into their face and they stumble over each other, having overshot past Junmyeon’s house. 

“See you tomorrow,” Yifan says, waving a hand as Junmyeon turns to go up the stairs to his front door. 

“See you,” Junmyeon says, smile sweet and cheeks as pink as the flowers from exertion, and then turns to go in. He doesn’t notice Yifan stalling a little, watching that he goes in safely and the door shuts before starting to walk home again, footsteps a little slower and more calculated as he rounds the end of the street to get home. 

Yifan’s still thinking by the time night falls, long after he’s eaten dinner and gotten his homework out of the way. He’s staring out his window, eyes not seeing the lights of the city or the odd car passing by, more occupied by the thoughts in his mind. The thoughts are mildly concerning, to say the least. 

When had he started thinking that the pink flush through Junmyeon’s pale cheeks was cute? When was it that he started to want to hold Junmyeon’s hand, to pull him across the street in a hurry when they’re crossing the road? When had he started feeling that Junmyeon fit nicely in his arms, smaller and skinnier but arms warm and all that more encompassing? When had he noticed the light in Junmyeon eyes and the fire in his mouth and the snow of his fingertips and the flower of his cheeks? 

“You act like you have a crush on Junmyeon,” Luhan says carefully, three weeks later when Yifan had spent more of his time staring at Junmyeon than participating in the lunchtime conversation. They’re sitting on the benches by the basketball court after school, after practice, and Luhan thought it was time he bring this up after the fourth time Yifan had mentioned Junmyeon’s name in the past half hour. 

Yifan had paused spinning the ball on the tip of his finger, then resumed after a few moments. “I suppose so,” Yifan says, shrugging and as cool as ever. 

Luhan looks at him for a while, then settles back too. “Unless you’re cool with everyone knowing that, you might want to cut down on the staring…” 

The ball falls away from Yifan’s hand at that. “I _stare_?” Yifan sounds aghast, embarrassed. 

Luhan grins, exhilarated. “Oh yeah. And you never stop talking about him. Ask anyone you know, I’m sure they’ll say the same.” 

Luhan is right, of course. And they have even less tact that Luhan. Yifan gives the crowning place to Chanyeol, who had asked _you aren’t dating yet_? in a very loud voice, and Yifan doesn’t care what anyone said, Chanyeol _deserved_ the basketball to his face. 

“You shouldn’t throw stuff at people,” Junmyeon says, objecting, finally speaking up with everyone else after a while. 

Yifan pauses and considers it. “Fine.” 

Luhan makes a face from behind Junmyeon. 

Yifan supposes Luhan isn’t wrong. It’s not like he listens to Junmyeon and Junmyeon only, but it’s just that he’s known Junmyeon for ages, when they were both in primary school, long before he’d known Minseok or Luhan or Zitao, and he knows Junmyeon well. Knows Junmyeon means the best and knows that Junmyeon is logical and considerate and - 

Alright, maybe he listens to Junmyeon and Junmyeon only. 

“Come sit with me,” Junmyeon asks, when the cherry blossom season is about to come to an end. He’s gesturing to outside his bedroom where the cherry blossom tree in Junmyeon’s backyard is still in full bloom and obscuring most of the view, and there’s a small smile on his face. It’s the smile that Yifan can never say no to, and Yifan isn’t sure if Junmyeon knows that he has this power or not. 

“We’re sitting on rotten petals,” Yifan points out ten minutes later, and their jeans will probably be crusted with little brown petals. 

“Wow, romantic,” Junmyeon says, making a face. 

“Romantic?” Yifan repeats, his voice catching in his throat and breaking a little. 

“I thought your voice finished cracking,” Junmyeon complains, even though it’s not his own voice, “why do you need to be so tall and your voice so deep? What about me?” 

“Your turn will come… not height though,” Yifan says, wondering how he can steer the conversation back to Junmyeon’s choice of wording. 

Junmyeon aims a punch at his arm and Yifan winces. God, he might be small but that _hurt_. “Anyway, it’s romantic because it’s cherry blossom petals. Shut up and enjoy the peace.” 

Yifan bites back a snort and leans back against the bark of the tree, closing his eyes as Junmyeon fiddles with his phone. Just a moment later, lo-fi music starts playing from Junmyeon’s phone, and the music settles around them like a bubble, keeping the outside away from them. 

It really is romantic, Yifan thinks. The music is soft, and the petals that fall on their faces and clothes softer, and after a while Junmyeon’s head finds a home in the crook of Yifan’s neck and shoulder. On instinct, Yifan reaches back to draw an arm around Junmyeon’s waist so Junmyeon’s more comfortable, and Junmyeon makes a content sound, so incredibly soft and yearning. 

Yifan’s heart skips a beat, and he hopes Junmyeon doesn’t hear that. 

When he opens his eyes again later, having entirely lost track of time, Yifan’s taken away by the sight he’s met with. Junmyeon, asleep and without a care, nestled comfortably in Yifan’s arms, and a cherry blossom petal had landed on the high of his cheek, just a shade pinker than the flush of his cheeks, and he looks so lovely like this that Yifan’s heart swells with affection, and he squeezes Junmyeon’s waist a little, then closes his eyes and leans his head against the top of Junmyeon’s. 

_You like Junmyeon-hyung_ , Kyungsoo had said quietly and firmly, two weeks ago. Yifan hadn’t denied that, but now, with Junmyeon in his arms and a bubble of peace surrounding them, he thinks that’s right. 

_I like Junmyeon_. The thought is warm, drawing pink threads around his heart and stitching Junmyeon into his heart like he belongs there, but it’s much, much warmer, when Junmyeon wakes him up in the evening, their butts numb and cherry blossom petals tangled messily in their hair. 

“Let’s go in,” Junmyeon says, smiling a little sleepily, a yawn bisecting the end of his words, and Yifan’s heart bursts. Junmyeon’s smile is pink lips and pink cheeks, prettier than any of the cherry blossoms that Yifan has ever seen, and it sends a swoop through Yifan’s stomach like the cool wind that sweeps through the backyard, and Junmyeon is spring then, in Yifan’s eyes. 

He likes Junmyeon, so, so much. 

* * *

_I’ll come visit you on your winter break_ , Junmyeon’s message had said, _make sure you’re taking care of yourself, okay? The winter this time is really cold!_ Then he had signed off with his usual barrage of heart emojis and a smiley face that was so Junmyeon that Yifan could only smile. 

Yifan had just turned nineteen and was almost done with his first year of university. He had moved to attend university, with the result being that he had much less contact with all his friends, and he had, of course, missed them, but it had been for Junmyeon that he felt the absence the most glaringly. 

“Of course you do, you’re attached at the hip,” Yifan’s mother said, then followed up with the same question she had been asking for the past year (Yifan knows, he had been keeping track). “When are you telling him you like him?” 

“ _Māmā_!” Yifan protested, cheeks burning even though neither his mom nor Junmyeon were with him. 

But still, the question haunted him. _When_ would he tell Junmyeon so? It had been four years since he first realised he liked Junmyeon, and he had opted not to tell Junmyeon for the sake of preserving their friendship, but with each year that had passed, Junmyeon grew lovelier and Yifan’s crush grew deeper, and even now, the distance hadn’t whittled away Yifan’s affection for him. 

Yifan replies to Junmyeon’s message, and if he finds himself now looking forward to his two week break now with more fervour than before, he doesn’t deign to acknowledge that. He has, at least, more dignity than that. 

That same dignity drains away immediately when he opens his dorm door two weeks later having been awoken by the doorbell to find Junmyeon on his doorstep, all bundled up and snowflakes gathered on top of his beanie, smiling widely. 

“Yifan!” 

“Jun...myeon?” 

Then Junmyeon had thrown himself, all cold and shivering into Yifan’s warm, pajama-clad body and said, “I missed you, Yifan, I really did,” and that was that. 

“I missed you too, Myeon,” Yifan says into Junmyeon’s beanie, and he can feel Junmyeon’s smile against his shoulder. 

When had Junmyeon been this small? Maybe he himself had grown taller, but as Yifan studies Junmyeon fluttering around his small dorm kitchen, trying to find a mug to make a hot drink for the both of them, he wonders if maybe Junmyeon had shrunk. Before he left, he was sure the top of Junmyeon’s head was level with his forehead, but now he’s barely at eye-level, and _when was Junmyeon this goddamned small_? 

“Are you okay?” Junmyeon asks, when he returns with two mugs of hot chocolate. “You look… weird.” 

“Thanks,” Yifan says, and tries not to be distressed about how small Junmyeon is. 

They fall back into conversation as if they had never been separated, with Yifan telling him about university life and Junmyeon regaling all the stories and mischief their other friends had got up to, which had undoubtedly caused Junmyeon to stress more, and Yifan laughs into his mug. 

“I’m getting too old to handle the kids alone,” Junmyeon grumbles when Yifan finishes laughing, and then suddenly Yifan can’t laugh anymore. 

“What?” Yifan asks, like he can’t quite hear what Junmyeon said, even though he heard every word, loud and clear.

“I said I’m getting too old to handle them without you,” Junmyeon says offhandedly, distracted with a book for reading that Yifan had left out, and Yifan’s left to stare somewhere over the top of Junmyeon’s head. 

It takes a few minutes for Yifan to return, by when Junmyeon’s now reading the first chapter of his book. “What do you mean, kids?” 

Junmyeon looks at him quizzically. “What? They are kids, aren’t they? Not like, _ours_ , but we’re almost like their parents, anyhow… this book is really nice, actually, is it for your course?” He says this with a nonchalant air, like Yifan is supposed to know they’ve been acting as pseudo-parents to their ragtag group of friends. 

“Yeah,” Yifan says, and decides looking at Junmyeon is easier. They settle back into silence, and Yifan observes as Junmyeon reads. Junmyeon’s wearing a huge sweater, with sleeves that stretch past his slender fingers and falls down one side of his shoulder, and loose sweatpants that Yifan recognises is his, which is why the hem has been rolled up several times. His hair is tousled and messy, and he’s wearing a necklace that Yifan got him for his sixteenth birthday, and Yifan can’t help the smile that stretches over his face. 

Junmyeon looks like he belongs. 

“You’re smiling,” Junmyeon says when he looks up from the book, catching Yifan staring, soft eyes and softer smile. 

“Can’t I?” 

“It’s just… no, nothing,” Junmyeon amends. 

“It’s just what?” 

“No - have you eaten breakfast?” 

“Not yet,” Yifan says, letting it go but not looking entirely convinced. 

_It’s just that you’re looking at me like you love me_ , Junmyeon wanted to say, just two minutes ago, but his courage had failed him again. Was he not being obvious enough? His heart had threatened to jump out of his throat when he mentioned their pseudo-parent figures, and he was wearing Yifan’s old sweatpants and necklace, how much more obvious could he be? 

“There’s this cafe nearby that serves breakfast well past noon, and I went there for the first time I thought I really needed to bring you there,” Yifan mentions suddenly, getting up from the sofa and snagging Junmyeon’s mug with him. “Do you wanna go have brunch there?” 

Junmyeon’s heart skips two beats and he hopes Yifan doesn’t think too much of the blush in his cheeks. “I’d love to.” 

Junmyeon is always happy eating, Yifan thinks, and laughs endearingly when Junmyeon steals some food off his plate. He tips some more food onto Junmyeon’s plate a beat later and the smile that he gets is entirely worth it. He loves it when Junmyeon is happy. 

Later, when dark is falling even though it’s not even evening yet and Junmyeon’s spinning circles in the falling snow, letting the white catch in his dark hair and the red settle in his pale cheeks, Yifan catches sight of his smile when he stops. It’s bright, like the shine of sun on the white of the snow in the mornings; it’s warm, like the fireplace in the common room that melts away the freeze of the cold; it’s lovely, it’s beautiful, and because it’s from Junmyeon that Yifan loves it all the much more. 

Right there, with that one smile, Yifan knows he’s fallen in love with Junmyeon in the bitter coldness of the winter that he’s nineteen. 

* * *

“So Mr Big Hotshot decided to visit me, huh?” Junmyeon teases. Twenty-one years old and he’s still shorter than Yifan by almost a whole head, though his fiery spirit had only grown with university life, and Yifan is pleased. 

“Says you, Mr Popularity?” Yifan says back, and they laugh, reminiscent of their childhood. 

Junmyeon’s in his last year of university, and Yifan had just started working his way up in a fairly large company, much to his mother’s pride. That pride, apparently, extended to Junmyeon, who told anyone who had an ear that Yifan was working now, at a famous company. 

Yifan could even recall what one of Junmyeon’s university friends had said, word for word. _Oh, are you Junmyeon’s boyfriend? The one that works in that company? He always talks about you, you know, you guys are so sweet_. Then Junmyeon had appeared, embarrassed and dragged the friend off. Yifan didn’t mention in later and Junmyeon was relieved, from the looks of it. 

“Thanks for coming to visit me,” Junmyeon says, arm warm against Yifan’s as they sit in Junmyeon’s university garden, all orange and red pressed into a carpet around them, spelling out autumn for anyone to see. 

“How could I not? Not after you drunk dialled me and told me you missed me.” 

Junmyeon flushes to his hairline, still easy to blush with how pale he is even after all these years, but doesn’t deny it. “How can I not miss my best friend?” He says, voice light, and stumbles a little on the word _best friend_. 

Best friend. The same word that Yifan had wanted to preserve when he was fifteen; the same word that made Yifan afraid to tell Junmyeon; the same word that he treasured above everything else, and so now it was six years later that he was still in love with Junmyeon and had not said a single word. Perhaps he doesn’t need to say it, after all, because he has an inkling Junmyeon knows. 

Junmyeon, pink in his cheeks when Yifan had whispered _i love you_ on his eighteenth birthday. Junmyeon, holding Yifan’s hand when their hands had brushed together once too many times at Yifan’s graduation. Junmyeon, kissing Yifan’s cheek sloppily when their group of friends played truth or dare and Jongin dared Junmyeon to kiss the most attractive person here. Junmyeon, smiling with roses on his cheeks and lilies at the corners of his lips when he catches Yifan staring at him. 

Oh, yeah, Junmyeon knows. 

Yet he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t distanced himself, hadn’t done anything but continue to stay by Yifan’s side with their plaque of _best friend_ veering dangerously out of the black and white that’s all Yifan has ever known. 

And now, as Yifan looks at Junmyeon, big sweater and skinny jeans, framed glasses and hot coffee, he thinks that he wants to dive deep into that grey area, as long as he has Junmyeon with him. 

“Let’s go get some lunch,” Junmyeon says, standing up and stowing his coffee cup in his bag. “Do you remember the cafe we went to the last time you came around? Do you wanna go there?” 

Yifan shrugs, standing up as well, rising like a flag mast. “Doesn’t matter to me. I can go anywhere.” 

Junmyeon smiles, like he knows Yifan isn’t being quite truthful, and leads Yifan through the bustling campus until they reach a cafe that’s just on the edge, smelling of fresh pastries and ground coffee. They go in, and Yifan trusts Junmyeon with their order so he goes off to find a table for them, and when Junmyeon returns, it’s with scrunched up eyes and a big smile. 

“How’s work?” Junmyeon asks, and then they’re off again, absorbed in conversation even when their food arrives. Junmyeon’s nods attentively when Yifan explains, and then his eyes sparkle when Yifan asks about how his course is going, words fast and hands making little gestures, voice lilting, and oh, Yifan is really so in love. 

“I have to leave before it’s too late,” Yifan reminds Junmyeon gently, a few hours after they’ve finished lunch. “Is there anywhere you wanna go before I leave?”

“Don’t want you to leave,” Junmyeon says, frowning a little as he looks up at Yifan. “Let’s go to the park in town, it’s much nicer than the gardens here.” 

Yifan could have driven them, but Junmyeon insists on walking there, because it’s good to be walking, and the sun is shining, so it’s better that they take advantage of the last vestiges of autumn sunshine and warmth before winter sets in again. 

“You know, if you miss me so much, you can live with me after you finish university,” Yifan says, and it’s half a joke, half a serious suggestion. “I can save on rent that way.” 

Junmyeon pauses walking. “But… aren’t you gonna live with your… significant other?” 

Yifan stops walking as well. “Who on earth gave you that idea that I’m dating someone?”

Junmyeon looks uncertain. “I - I don’t know, I just thought you were.” 

“I’m not dating anyone, Myeon,” Yifan says gently, though he’s frowning. 

“You wouldn’t mind?” Junmyeon asks, like he’s suddenly afraid that he’ll be a hindrance, “Sharing a place with me?” 

“Mind? I’d love to, what are you on about?” 

“Okay,” Junmyeon says, and there’s a bright smile blooming on his face, his lips tinted as red as the autumn leaves, and his skin shines pale gold in the autumn sunlight. “I’ll move in with you after university.” 

Yifan doesn’t say anything for a few moments, choosing to drink in Junmyeon instead. Junmyeon’s happiness is palpable, _visible_. It’s visible in the scrunch of his eyes and the highs of his cheeks; it’s visible in the swing of his arms and the light in his eyes; it’s visible in the way he fidgets and twists the end of his frayed scarf in his fingers and smiles up at Yifan, still as lovely and endearing as he was a decade ago, and Yifan’s thins out. 

“I love you, Myeon,” Yifan says, and perhaps he didn’t mean to say it so bluntly, but it was the only thing that properly conveyed his feelings. “I love you so much, Myeon, I really do.” 

Junmyeon’s smile had changed then. A little surprise, coming in the rise of his eyebrows. Then, a little shy, from the red on his cheeks. Then, something like love and affection in the softness of his smile, red lips and corners curled up. 

“I love you too,” Junmyeon says, words louder to Yifan’s ears than the bustle of the park around them. “I have, for so long.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Yifan admits, drawing Junmyeon into his arms, “I didn’t know.” 

“I did,” Junmyeon murmurs, “but I waited until you were ready.” 

“Thank you,” Yifan says, looking down at Junmyeon, who fits in his arms like the missing piece to a puzzle, and if Junmyeon wanted to, he could lean his head against his chest and hear Yifan’s heartbeat, thudding fast. “Can I… kiss you?” 

Junmyeon’s smile is autumn sunshine distilled into a single being. “Yes,” He says, voice barely above a whisper. 

Kissing Junmyeon is like kissing warmth, like kissing gold. Kissing Junmyeon is to kiss his smile, all red and orange and yellow. Kissing Junmyeon is to kiss autumn itself, and Yifan would have it no other way. 

“Be with me, always?” Yifan asks, when they part, and Junmyeon leans up to press another kiss against him. 

“Always.” 

They are a permanent happiness like how the seasons are a permanent, and now, it is time for fate to rest. Her hands were weary, but now they are healed, like what love can do, and Yifan and Junmyeon have more than happiness waiting for them, now that the world is turning in their favour. 

They are meant to be. They always have, and always will be. They’ve found their happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope it was soft enough to mend your hearts uwuuwuw <3 talk to me about krisho on tumblr @miroh-minho


End file.
